


Three People Who Fantasize About Dr. Leonard H. McCoy (and the one who doesn't have to)

by graceandfire



Series: Brightness Burns [18]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graceandfire/pseuds/graceandfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yeah, this one's pretty self explanatory *cough*</p>
<p>It's also extremely explicit.  Fair warning (invitation?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three People Who Fantasize About Dr. Leonard H. McCoy (and the one who doesn't have to)

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Savoytruffle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Savoytruffle/pseuds/Savoytruffle) for her awesome beta!

Chekov  
  
The slicing, howling winds follow Pavel into camp, the mad and wildly joyful shrieks chasing him into the echoing cavern.  The dead mammal he carries, heavily muscled and covered in dense white fur, does not drip.  Its blood has frozen, matted in its fur like dull red ice.    From what they’ve surveyed, this entire planet is frozen, a blinding white land, vicious in every way.  
  
Pavel knows the rest of the away team does not like it.  Grumbles of the ice storms and prowling carnivores.  But Pavel feels peaceful here.  It reminds him of home.  Of Mother Russia.  
  
The mad howling of the wind is a soothing echo of a childhood lullaby.  
  
He could stay here, he thinks.  
  
 _Of course no, this is not true, he would not want to really._  
  
But a part of him thinks he could stay here and be at peace, watching the brilliant stars on the rare clear nights, secure in the safety of the ice caves in the more frequent times when nature declares war.  
  
 _But, no, he would miss dancing through the stars on the Enterprise too much.  He would._  
  
Pavel enters the main cave and sees the Doktor moving around the cavern, sorting out medical supplies.  He changes course.  
  
“Hello, Doktor McCoy!  I have brought us prowisions,” he beams, holding up his offering.  His smile widens at the Doktor’s skeptical look.  
  
Doktor McCoy’s eyebrows draw down as he scowls at the animal.  “What in the hell is _that_?  This is an _unexplored planet_ Chekov.  Do you know how many ‘lethal to man’ diseases that thing might be carrying?”  
  
“Yes, Doktor McCoy,” Pavel agrees politely.  “That is why I bring it to you.  So you can scan it to make sure it is safe for consumption, yes?”  He lifts the animal higher, giving it a hopeful shake.  
  
The scowl, it remains.  “Kid, we’ve got replicators for food.”  
  
“Yes, but is _not_ the same as fresh meat,” Pavel states firmly.  Fresh meat is definitely better.  
  
Doktor McCoy glares at him for another moment before half harrumphing, half sighing as he reaches over to take the animal from him.  “What the hell, I’ll check it out.”  
  
“Thank you, Doktor McCoy,” Pavel beams again and then walks to sit against the nearest cave wall, legs stretched out so he can watch the Doktor examine the carcass with his instrument, muttering the occasional curse.  
  
Yes, Pavel thinks, he could stay here in these caves.  With him.  His Doktor McCoy.  Pavel would hunt in the brutal white lands that surround them and provide for their needs.  He would make fur blankets from the skins to keep his Doktor warm.  He would offer his own warmth.  
  
He can picture it so clearly, just the two of them snug in their nest together.  The Doktor spread out naked on their bed of furs, groaning with want and need as Pavel slowly laps at him with his tongue.  Pavel would bring the Doktor to pleasure often.  He would be good to him.  
  
Pavel would be content here.  
  
But the Doktor, he would not be.  
  
This is not a place for him, Pavel admits with a sigh.  Not like his _nastavnik_ , Zhilin, who would have been at home here, so like the wasteland of white where he had taught Pavel.  The Doktor and his nastavnik, his teacher, they are so different in so many ways.  His fierce mentor had danced with the knives and lived as a wild thing, a ghost upon the land.  A man so fierce and brutal that even Papa had respected him, bringing the man his own ‘small of stature’ son to see if he could be taught to survive and learn the Dagger’s way.  
  
It was a gift of Papa, with all his bear-like strength, to see that his fierce, clever son might be of use, even if small.  
  
It was a gift of Zhilin to take Pavel in and teach him.  To share his knowledge and his ways.  
  
Pavel watches the Doktor’s hands move over the carcass, strong and sure.  The Doktor and his nastavnik, they are so different in so many ways but still, Pavel sees some of Zhilin’s talent, of his own, when he watches the Doktor, watches him operate with absolute focus to save an otherwise lost soul.  He thinks the Doktor would not understand this, how close his skills are to Pavel’s own.  The talent of re-uniting flesh so parallel to that of parting it.  How fascinating it is to see such a skill turned onto such a different path.  
  
Pavel watches as Doktor McCoy looks up at him, scowl still firmly in place.  “All right, so it looks edible.  Doesn’t mean it’s gonna taste good.”  
  
They exchange stares.  
  
The Doktor’s scowl deepens.  “You want me to clean this fur ball, don’t you.”  
  
“That would be wery good of you, Doktor McCoy,” Pavel agrees.  
  
The Doktor sighs loudly, glares balefully, then rolls his eyes and gets to work.  
  
Pavel watches the Doktor skin the animal with precise, elegant motions that are beautiful, deadly, perfect.  
  
Yes, he could stay here with the Doktor.  He would be content.  
  
  
Uhura  
  
 _McCoy’s face is hidden between her legs, tongue lapping, laving, sucking with an almost desperate intensity.  Pleasure and need begin to build as her heart rate quickens.  The doctor’s large, capable hands are…_  
  
“Are you attempting to elicit the emotion of anger from me, Nyota?” Spock stops thrusting, his dick firm and throbbing with heat inside of her, filling her up, creating the need for more.  
  
Nyota smiles as she luxuriates in the cool silk of bed sheets against her back, such a contrast to the heat of Spock pressing down on her.  “Now why would you think that?”  
  
“You are imagining engaging in sexual intercourse with Doctor McCoy while you and I are in the middle of the actual physical act.  You are fully aware that I am a touch telepath and, as such, am receptive to these images, especially given your heightened emotional projection during such a time.”  Fingers tighten with bruising care around Nyota’s arms.  “It is therefore logical to conclude that you are attempting to elicit anger from me, or perhaps jealousy.  I do not understand the motive behind such actions, however, as there is no apparent benefit to causing anger in me either towards you or the doctor.”  Spock remains buried to the hilt in her soft warmth, motionless, seeming perfectly at ease with staying at rest inside her until the matter is settled.  
  
Nyota’s smile widens, and she suppresses the current of need that makes her want to arch up her hips in search of friction.  “I _am_ fully aware of your capabilities as a touch telepath.  Had you permitted me to continue with my little fantasy, my motives would have become apparent.”  
  
Spock’s brows furrow as he considers her, weighing her words carefully.  After a moment of deliberation he nods.  “Proceed.”  
  
With a smirk Uhura closes her eyes and falls back into the fantasy, projecting as loudly as she can.  
  
 _McCoy’s face is hidden between her legs, tongue lapping, laving, sucking with an almost desperate intensity.  Pleasure and need begin to build as her heart rate quickens.  The doctor’s large, capable hands are secured behind his back, making balance awkward for him but he’s still very, very talented with his tongue.  Despite the building pleasure inside of her Nyota reaches out and tugs at his hair until McCoy looks up.  She shakes her head.  “I don’t think you’re properly motivated Doctor.”  She looks past McCoy.  “Spock, I think you can help with that.”_  
  
 _“Indeed,” Spock murmurs, climbing naked onto the bed, his dick already hard just from watching the doctor service her.  McCoy sees the flogger in Spock’s hand and his jaw tightens but he stays silent, knowing there’s no way out of this.  Spock grips McCoy’s chin with his free hand, tilting it up so they’re staring into each other’s eyes.  “You will be flogged, Dr. McCoy, until such time as you pleasure Nyota to climax.  I suggest, therefore, that you apply yourself with as much skill and vigor as you are able to muster.”_  
  
 _Spock pushes McCoy back down and Nyota can see a flash of hot, angry eyes before McCoy’s tongue presses firmly against her clitoris.  She doesn’t bother holding back the moan of appreciation as her eyes fall shut.  A second later the soft whump of the flogger hitting McCoy’s ass and the jolt of McCoy’s mouth against her have her eyes flying back open and she moans again at the sight.  McCoy jumps at the next hit, and at the next, head rearing up as he tries to shift away from the pain.  Spock grips his shoulder firmly and pushes him back down, never breaking stride with the flogger as McCoy grunts his pain against Nyota’s soft flesh._  
  
 _Spock settles into a precise rhythm, the results of each hit shuddering into Nyota as McCoy jolts and struggles to keep his balance.  The doctor’s movements are desperate now, tongue speeding up and pushing deeper, searching, seeking… “Oh!” she gasps as his tongue slides over to the side of her clit, finding the sensitive spot that usually takes her over the edge.  She keeps her eyes on McCoy, his ass flinching away from every remorseless blow even as he strains to hold focus on that single spot, tongue sliding frantically back and forth and back and…oh, yes, there, there,_ there…  
  
 _“Aaahh, fuck, right_ there! _” She shudders around him, hips pushing up involuntarily, searching for that last pressure to nurse her through the aftershocks of her climax, hand clenched in McCoy’s hair to keep him where she needs him until she’s finished.  As the last pulses subside she lets go and stretches lazily before settling back, relaxed and sated.  When she looks up, Spock is watching her with hungry eyes.  Smiling, she reaches up to toy with her nipples, enjoying the way Spock’s eyes follow her movements.  She nods.  “Your turn to enjoy the doctor.”_  
  
 _As if she’s hit the ‘On’ button, Spock is moving, sliding a hand between her legs, wringing another aftershock of pleasure as he drenches his fingers in her juices.  Spock grabs the doctor by the scruff of the neck and pushes him down, McCoy’s face pressed into the bed cover, ass up in the air.  Still looking at Nyota, Spock reaches down and shoves those cum-wetted fingers into McCoy’s ass.  The man grunts and squirms in protest, stilling only when Spock pulls his fingers out to deliver a sharp slap to McCoy’s already tenderized flesh.  Positioning himself behind McCoy, Spock pushes into him with one slow, ruthless thrust, never hesitating, ignoring McCoy’s low moans and struggles.  When he’s buried all the way inside the doctor Spock pauses, meets Nyota’s gaze, and begins thrusting, in and out, at a slow but unrelenting pace._  
  
 _Nyota lick her lips in appreciation.  “I want to see more of him,” she demands._  
  
 _With a slight smile Spock shifts back and pulls McCoy up onto his knees.  Now she can see the pain spark across McCoy’s features with every thrust that stretches his ass out more and brings Spock into slapping contact against McCoy’s beaten, tender cheeks.  Nyota gets to her own knees, moving in front of McCoy, reaching down to stroke his dick, nodding in approval as it starts to lengthen.  Her hands roam across McCoy’s torso at her leisure, pinching at his nipples, scratching marks into the doctor’s pretty flesh.  And then Spock must shift enough to find McCoy’s sweet spot because the doctor jerks toward her with a gasp, dick jutting outward._  
  
 _Nyota stops touching, settling back to watch in appreciation as Spock’s tempo quickens, faster, faster until he’s ramming in and out, hips pistoning as the doctor moans in need and pain.  With a low, soft, growl that pulls a response from deep in her belly, and one final vicious thrust, Spock comes.  He stays inside of McCoy for a moment, holding the man upright as the doctor tries to thrust forward into the air.  When Spock pulls out, sitting back on his heels on the bed, Nyota gives McCoy a hard shove,  pushing him onto his back with such force that he bounces.  She looks down in admiration at the debauched picture the doctor makes, hands still tied beneath him, sweat soaked body gleaming, dick an angry red, misery and temper burning in his eyes._  
  
 _“So what do you think, Spock?” Nyota looks up at her lover.  “Should we let him come?”_  
  
 _Spock lifts an eyebrow.  “The doctor has performed the services we have required of him and has managed to refrain from speaking which is something I doubted was possible at the beginning of this exercise.  It is logical that he be given an incentive to continue such behavior in our future interactions.”_  
  
 _Nyota looks back down at McCoy’s face.  He’s staring off to the side, stone faced, refusing to meet their gaze as they discuss his fate.  Smiling slightly she shakes her head.  “Oh, I think you’re being too easy on him, Spock.  I think the doctor should be given the opportunity to handle more of a challenge.”  She leans down, bringing one hand to rest on McCoy’s thigh, one finger brushing delicately at the underside of McCoy’s balls and smiles at the shuddering response.  “Tell you what, Doctor McCoy.  We’ll do this all over again.  Then you can come.”_  
  
 _She watches McCoy’s eyes widen in horror as she lies back on the bed, spreading her thighs.  Spock, taking her cue, forces McCoy back to his knees even as he picks up the discarded flogger.  She settles comfortably against the pillows and smirks.  “Of course I’m a little tired so round two might take a while...”_  
  
Nyota gasps as teeth sink into her shoulder and looks up into Spock’s dark, dark eyes.  She feels fine tremors in the body above her as Spock pulls out and then thrusts back into her.  She scrabbles at the sheets for a brief moment before forcing herself to still.  Reaching up she rakes manicured nails down his back, digging bloody green furrows into flesh and is rewarded with a shudder.  
  
“Well?” she challenges, smiling even as need claws through her, trying to shake her apart.  
  
Spock’s hand reaches down to push against her clit and she screams with a sudden explosion of climax, writhing as he works her mercilessly, continuously, subjecting her to a stuttering pleasure-pain at the core of her overly sensitized nerves again and again.  Spock stiffens with the beginnings of his own orgasm as he gasps, “I agree that your presented argument has,” he begins to shudder “…merit.”  
  
  
Sulu  
  
Hikaru is fucking bored.  
  
 _Bored._  
  
Stuck in a biobed in Sickbay, under orders not to move an inch until knitting bones and flesh finish their regen.  He sighs.  He can be still for hours on end if he’s got prey in sight.  If he’s got a _goal._ But recuperating?  He _hates_ bed rest.  
  
Not to mention whatever shit the doc shot him up with is making him kind of loopy.  Hikaru shakes his head against it, hand tightening around his phaser, ankle flexing to feel the reassuring pressure of the dagger he hadn’t let them remove from his boot.  He breathes out the tension.  Treachery’s never impossible but the middle of beta shift is a terrible time for anyone to try anything, what with plenty of witnesses bustling around outside the privacy curtain surrounding his bed.  
  
He eyes the curtain.  He could sneak out.  Or just walk out.  Hell, it’s not like any of the medical staff could stop him even in his current condition.  But then again, Hikaru _is_ still kinda out of it from the drugs.  Smartest thing to do is lie here until it wears off.   
  
Besides, for someone who’s all about the healing McCoy sure can sling a hypospray.  And it would be _embarrassing_ to be laid out by _the_ _doc._  
  
It’s only happened once before.  
  
Okay, fine, twice if you count that time last year with that planet with the thing that had really liked his…Yeah, he’d really prefer not to think about that one actually.  
  
Anyway, Pavel’s been stabbed _way_ more times than he has.  
  
Of course Pavel’s whipped when it comes to the doc.  
  
Not that Hikaru will ever say that to Pavel’s face given that he’s, y’know, sane.  
  
So.  
  
Fine.  
  
He’ll fucking stay here in his fucking biobed without even his fucking PADD for another fucking twenty minutes.  Thirty tops.   
  
…  
  
 _Boring._  
  
Hikaru lets his mind wonder back to the doc and how the man had just put him back together.  Not for the first time Hikaru thinks to himself that McCoy’s got serious skills.  The Enterprise crew is lucky to have him.  If the man would just embrace a little _ruthlessness_ he’d have some real power.     
  
Hikaru snorts to himself.  Yeah, right.  Stealth hypos aside, if Hikaru were to jump up and walk into the doc’s office right now and bend him over a desk McCoy probably wouldn’t even…wouldn’t even…mmm… _nice_ image.  
  
He smirks, feeling himself start to harden.  _Very_ nice image.  Hell yes, he can definitely picture it.  Strolling into the doc’s office, getting the signature McCoy scowl, watching his eyes widen as Hikaru circles around the desk and doesn’t stop.  The very short scuffle that would ensue before he’d have the doc bent over his desk, pants down around his ankles.  Teasing him apart…pushing a lube soaked finger in to probe…the doc has to have lube in his office what with how often Kirk’s down here and…  
  
The image of Kirk barging into the office while Hikaru has the doc bent over his desk intrudes.  
  
The flash of imagery that follows has Hikaru wincing.  
  
Oh _, c’mon,_ it’s a fucking fantasy.  Kirk’s not going to come into his own daydream and…  
  
Hikaru sighs as he feels his half hard dick soften.  
  
Well there goes that fucking moment.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Hmm, what _would_ be an entertaining, _safe,_ way to have the doc…  
  
Heh, well there were those smugglers they’d taken out last week.  Of course, being an Imperial Officer on the Enterprise is so much more badass than being a smuggler but still… being a space pirate, captain of your own ship.  Absolutely no rules other than your own.  It has a certain daydream appeal.  
  
Say you’re the captain of an outlaw pirate vessel and you meet a doctor who’s fleeing _from_ the Imperial Fleet.  Who has no one to turn to and nothing to offer up as payment but his own pretty ass.  
  
Yeah, he can totally work with this.  
  
Once they’ve eluded Imperial pursuit as promised he orders the doc to his quarters…no, wait, to the _bridge._ There’d be something sexy as hell about ordering the doc to strip down to nothing right in the middle of the bridge, Hikaru sitting back in the captain’s chair watching the show.  Ordering him tied up…no, _spread-eagled._ Oh, yeah.  McCoy spread-eagled in chains _on the bridge._  
  
Would the bridge even have chains?  
  
Well it’s his pirate bridge so yes it has chains.  They’d have to be retractable because otherwise people could trip on them and okay, he’s getting off topic…  
  
Less practical, more naked McCoy.  
  
So he strings McCoy up naked on his pirate bridge, arms and legs wide apart, with a gag in that pretty mouth.  He keeps him hanging there in chains throughout the day and the bridge crew ignores him as they go about their work.  Except for the breaks they take to fuck the doc, to tease his dick to hardness, to spank his ass red and trace a few strategic slices into flesh with a knife.  Pavel’s the one to really…  
  
Wait, what’s Pavel doing here?  
  
“You do not think I would be a pirate with you?” Pavel smiles cheerfully at him from the bridge of Hikaru’s imaginary pirate ship.  Daydream Hikaru and Pavel turn to look at the naked, spread-eagled, ball gagged, totally hot daydream doc who’s glaring at them both.  
  
Pavel turns back to Hikaru with narrowing eyes, cheerfulness falling away.  “Although I think we must talk about this particular daydream because…”  
  
Hikaru comes back to reality and thunks his head against the pillow in irritation.  A wave of dizziness hits.  
  
 “Shit.”  
  
The curtain pulls back and Doctor McCoy peers in with a frown “Everything okay in here?  You’re not trying to move early are you?  Because if you reopen your damn wounds I’ll…”  
  
Hikaru glares at him.  “You’re kind of a pain in the ass, y’know that?”  
  
McCoy stares at him, clearly taken aback.  “Huh?”  
  
Hikaru just shakes his head.  “That’s okay though.  I forgive you,” he allows magnanimously.  After all the doc did patch him up.  
  
And gave him really good drugs.  
  
“You…”  With a blink McCoy enters the exam area all the way and starts reviewing the biobed readings with a concerned frown.  
  
“I think it’s time to adjust your meds.”  
  
  
Kirk  
  
Jim idly eyes the chronometer.  Ten minutes until the end of shift.  It’s been a quiet one.  Their whole current assignment has been a quiet break after the last, bloody round of rebellion quashing.  And since he’s put himself on Alpha shift this week he’ll have the whole next shift free with McCoy.  
  
Jim smirks.  He’s _definitely_ looking forward to it.  
  
He thinks about the little chat he’d had with McCoy this morning before heading to the bridge.  
  
 _“So you’re not on until Gamma,” Jim confirms casually as he finishes up his coffee and watches McCoy reading a journal and gulping down his own first cup of the day._  
  
 _McCoy looks up.  “Yeah?” he asks, wary._  
  
 _“What are you planning to do today?”_  
  
 _McCoy shrugs.  “I have some reading to catch up on.  I got a bunch of new journals in the latest data packet and…”_  
  
 _“Uh huh,” Jim glances at his chrono.  Yeah, he has time.  “Okay then, strip.”_  
  
 _McCoy blinks up at him.  “Why?  You’re on shift.  We don’t have time to…”_  
  
 _“Did I ask for commentary or did I ask you to strip?”_  
  
 _McCoy growls but stands up and pulls off the civvies he’d only recently put on.  “Dammit, Kirk, it’s_ important _that I keep current on medical journals.  What happens when you come down with some new space disease that I haven’t had time to read about because you decided to fuck with my off-shift time and…”_  
  
 _He doesn’t stop grumbling as Jim manhandles him into position, McCoy bent over Jim’s desk, legs kicked apart so they’re spread wide.  “Don’t move,” Jim advises cheerfully as he walks away from McCoy’s still cursing form.  He pulls open the second drawer in his nightstand, grabs the toy he’d picked up on their last shore leave and re-enters the living area where McCoy is, luckily for him, still in position._  
  
 _McCoy shoots him a glare of exasperation over his shoulder.  “Kirk, look, I need to…”_  
  
 _“You_ need _to stop talking for a minute.” Jim advises, threading a hint of command into his voice which McCoy is smart enough to catch.  He subsides into disgruntled silence.  Jim squeezes McCoy’s ass in appreciation because, yeah, he will never get tired of this sight and then, in one slow, steady motion, he pushes the slick metallic object into McCoy’s ass, ignoring the startled yelp._  
  
 _“Now, you’re right.  I_ am _on shift so you can go ahead and spend the time doing as much reading as you like.  Just consider this a little challenge in concentration.”  He grins at the mutinous look McCoy shoots him.  “So here are the rules.  Clothes stay off.  This little toy stays in.  And you don’t touch yourself in any way until I get back.  Simple.”_  
  
 _“What the hell was that thing?”_  
  
 _Jim smirks.  “I’ll just let you find that out for yourself.”_  
  
With a cheerful, “Have fun, McCoy,” Jim had left for the bridge.  Once arriving and making sure all was well on his ship he’d keyed into the cameras in his quarters and watched McCoy, obediently naked, sitting on the living area couch, PADD in his lap, focused on reading.  With the slightest of smirks Jim had keyed in a command that had McCoy jerking as he’d jolted upright, hands reaching down towards his ass before fisting in impotent fury.  A second command had McCoy’s eyes closing and head falling back for a moment, his dick hardening under the pulses of sensation that were currently being transmitted from the electric device inside his ass.  
  
“You have gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” McCoy had groaned to himself, the words clearly readable on Jim’s PADD screen.  Yeah, Jim had decided, he was definitely going to have to do this again when he could watch McCoy in person.  Video was hot.  In person?  So much hotter.  
  
He had watched McCoy grab the PADD that had fallen to the table and stare at it, a grim set to his face, clearly intending to ignore the sensations.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Jim had muttered to himself, ignoring the puzzled look of inquiry from Spock.  Another command and McCoy was jumping off up the couch with a no doubt sulfurous bout of swearing as a jolt of pure electricity sent a painful shock through his system.  
  
“ _Goddammit_ , _Kirk_!”  
  
Jim had allowed himself one last look of appreciation before keying in an unpredictable pattern of different pulse waves, varying in length and intensity.  Then he set the PADD on the side and got to work.  
  
He’d had reports of his own to review.  
  
It’s been a damn entertaining way to spend his shift, checking in on McCoy every so often as the man did his best to ignore the sensations in his ass.  Watching the times he failed and was pushed to squirming in discomfort, hands hovering above his hard dick, the need to touch himself warring with knowledge of the sure punishment that would come if he did.  
  
The chrono chimes, signaling the end of Alpha.  
  
Hell yes.  
  
Jim keys in the command for continuous pleasure pulses, hands the bridge off, and heads directly towards his quarters.  Towards his afternoon entertainment.  
  
He’s half expecting it and easily leans sideways as he enters his quarters just enough so the PADD that comes flying at his head misses him and hits the wall, bouncing down onto the floor.  
  
He smirks.  “Temper, temper.”  
  
“You _fucker_ ,” McCoy snarls, standing in the middle of Jim’s living room, hands clenched at his sides, straining dick bobbing in need.  
  
“What, you didn’t like my little study lesson in concentration?”  Jim wastes no time in closing in, getting into McCoy’s space, appreciating the mutinous face.  “Tell you what.  I’m getting the sense that you’re not happy.  You want to punch me, go ahead.”  
  
“Oh, _really,_ you’re just gonna stand there and take it?” McCoy’s sarcasm reaches new heights of acidity.  
  
Jim smiles.  “Yup.  Of course, if you do,” he reaches down and palms McCoy’s dick, pulling a strangled cry, “you’ll be experiencing all the fun features of your new toy through the end of Beta shift.”  
  
McCoy closes his eyes and breathes out a moan as Jim squeezes ever so lightly.  “Goddammit, Kirk, _please.”_  
  
That’s all he needs to hear.  
  
“Bed.  Hands and knees.  Now.”  
  
He strolls behind, shedding clothes and watching as McCoy makes it to the bed in record time.  He pauses for a moment to admire the view before climbing up behind him, palm reaching up to cup McCoy’s ass.  
  
“Y’know, maybe we should wait another hour or two.  Play some cards, have a few shots…”  
  
“ _Kirk._ ” It’s a moan and a plea, McCoy driven past rebellion by pure, desperate need.  
  
“Or maybe I should just fuck you into next Sunday.”  Reaching down, he probes with his fingers and pulls the cylinder from McCoy’s ass, tossing it aside with a rush because he fucking wants that ass _now._ Reaching over he grabs the lube from the nightstand and, after one push of soaking fingers, he replaces them with his dick, sinking in with a groan.  “ _Fuck.  Yes.”_  
  
He sets a hard, brutal pace driving in and out, angling just right so that McCoy’s crying out in choked need with every well placed thrust.  Feeling his orgasm approaching he pushes it back and reaches around, grabbing McCoy’s dick and jacking it in a rough pull.  Once, twice, three times and McCoy’s bucking and coming with a hoarse scream.  Jim lets his own orgasm go, pulsing in McCoy’s ass as they shudder and jerk against each other, flesh on flesh, need and want and perfect so fuckingfucking _perfect._  
  
With a final shudder, Jim pulls all the way out, collapsing onto the bed next to McCoy who looks barely conscious.  
  
Jim finds the energy to turn his head and takes in McCoy’s exhausted features.  “So, how was your day?”  
  
“Fuck.  You,” McCoy mutters, not bothering to open his eyes.  
  
Jim smirks and relaxes back against the covers.  
  
It’s good to be him.


End file.
